#APOCALYPSE!AU

[mydarlingclaudia]

apocilypse…… simon…… fem!reader…… @vaaaaaiolet I am also going to write more of this I just had to get this out of my system first

wc : 781 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Simon always wakes up before you.

He’s a deep sleeper, he slept lighter when he was on deployment, but those days are in the past, either way, you’re a much deeper sleeper than he is.

But the first thing he does when he wakes up is press two fingers to the pulse point in your neck.

You sleep a foot or two away from him in a sleeping bag on the dirt floor, he normally wakes you up after he throws something together to eat, you greet him with the same thankful grumble and sleepy smile. He’s far from home and you’re the only person he has, you could leave if you wanted to, he could do the same, but you follow each other through each valley and mountain chain.

Simon found you a year after the end of everything, well, more like you found him. It had been somewhere in either Wyoming or Utah, but he had stepped in a deep hole some animal had dug, not having seen it, and apparently the shout he let out when he twisted his ankle had found its way to your ears. He had bristled when you walked out of the overgrown brush, expecting you to try and rob him since he was down and had dropped his knife a few feet away, but you had helped him up and dragged him over to your small camp.

He stayed with you for a week, eating the fish you cooked and silently eyeing you, trying to figure you out without ever asking. As soon as his ankle healed, he left. For almost a week he headed north, pushing himself harder to get away from you.

But you found him. Again.

It was another mistake, but it was one you made this time.

Fire spreads fast in dry, open fields.

You hadn’t meant to do it, the fire you had made had gotten too big and there was nothing you could do to try and contain it. So you packed up your things and ran down to the river.

Simon thought you were following him when the crunching rocks under your feet made you known in the night, the knife to your throat was supposed to make it clear he didn’t care for strangers.

But when you explained that you didn’t know he had been hiding out here and that you were just trying to get away from the fire you started, his grip loosened and his knife found its way back into its sheath. He could smell the smoke and the dirt on you, he figured he owed you one, anyway.

So he let you stay, neither of you slept; he was scared you’d try to steal from him (even though most of him knew you wouldn’t), you wanted to stay awake because you knew the fire would get closer by the hour.

The two of you hiked up the mountain in the morning, figuring you’d keep heading north, you could see the smoke and burnt up earth from the summit.

That was two years ago, you and Simon have found other people along the road, but there wasn’t any kind of connection with them. That and neither of you really trusted others. It would be a small brush of your pinky against his to let him know you were uncomfortable or him crowding around you when others were around, something silent to say it’s time to go.

The world ended when people started dropping like flies, it wasn’t a sickness, they just died and there were too many fingers pointing at so many different things that everything just shut down before hell broke loose. Simon was only in America because Price said he needed a vacation and jokingly suggested Vegas, Simon decided to go just for the fun of it.

You’re everything he has now, he makes sure you’re extra bundled up in the winter, makes sure you eat enough, tries to keep you entertained, tries to do the harder work for you, anything you want, he does it. He always thought he’d be a shitty husband, given his job, but with you, with nothing else to worry about except for keeping you fed, he’s not half bad.

He’s had too many nightmares where he ends up alone, he can’t go back to that. Even before the end, even when he was still in England living his life, he was still alone. The last thing he needs is for you to die in the night and bury you alone.

So when he presses his fingers to your neck and feels the soft thump of your pulse, it’s already a good day to him.

[princessbrunette]

can’t stop thinking about all the little ways apocalypse!johnb displays casual dominance.

it’s the little things, like the hand he always seems to have on the back of your neck. it’s gentle most times, standing around the camp together with the warm caress of his palm cupping the tepid skin there, rubbing a thumb along the bottom of your scalp whilst he listens to pope talk about the control tower updates. you like it, it makes you feel held without making a big scene of things. love and pda was a touchy subject now that so many people had lost someone, or were just suffering from loneliness so you didn’t wanna rub it in everyone’s faces that you’d found eachother. the gentle touch keeps you near to him, the way he likes it.

john b just does things for you to help get you ready and speed the day along. something you notice, is the way he’ll lay out an outfit for you on a cold winter morning as you stand there in pyjamas all puffy and half awake, watching in silence as you adapt to being conscious. you’re sure it’s roughly 6AM — but he’s moving around quickly throwing your things together so he can take you out into the woods within the fences and reach you how to shoot. you can tell the visage of sarah’s passing still haunts him, which is why he gets these random trauma fuelled bouts of sudden desperation to teach you to protect yourself, just incase. you pout grumpily because when it was john b who was dressing you, he would never let you dress cute during the literal end of the world. you’d mutter out something about it ‘stifling your creativity’ which he’d ignore as he starts to pull your pyjamas off to help you change. he’d pile warm layers on warm layers that would keep you comfortable in the morning chill which was honestly sweet — given that he was dressing you like a little teddy bear in those fuzzy sweaters, thick jeans and boots that you’d replaced the laces with ribbons. you didn’t really mind, not at all.

aside from this, he doesn’t let you come anywhere that he deems too dangerous — meaning it was rare you ever got to leave the gates to kitty hawk — no matter how often you whined about it. “look, okay — the answer is no. you’re not coming. no way.” he was hard on you because he cares, and felt it was his duty to keep you safe.

when he eventually lets you out with him he’s practically got you on a leash, gripping you by the shoulders and lecturing you if you take a step too far. he mellows out if it really does feel safe, only pulling you back towards him to bring his water bottle to your mouth, mopping you up when some dribbles out. “need to stay hydrated, okay — can’t afford to have you passing out.”

when you stop listening or go into your occasional daydream, john b isn’t afraid to check you. especially if it was important. you’d zoned out while jj stands before the entire camp, briefing all the campers you’d collected on some new weapons that had arrived from a successful supply hunt. he was the weapons master after all, so he really knew his stuff. you knew john b was stood at your side with that same tense look, brow creased and arms folded — but when you begin staring off at the treeline his attention turns to you, unfolding his arms to lightly grip your chin to point it back to the front. “listen up. this is no joke.” he’d warn.

overall, he’s mega patient with you. as you might imagine, you’re always thrilled to see him when he comes home from a long supply hunt or anywhere really that he had to travel to, which sometimes can take up to a week. john b, being the guy he is always has some kind of news to tell the group — so usually he barrels back through the doors immediately talking at everyone with this new information. this of course doesn’t stop you from running to his side and throwing your arms around him. the routledge boys flow state remains unbroken, continuing to ramble at the group as his hand rubs your lower back, letting you cuddle into his side. you knew he’d give you his full attention later on, laying with you quietly talking on the hammocks outside your shared cabin — but for now you didn’t mind. sometimes the casual nonchalance turned you on.

his dominance can shine through in real gentle ways sometimes — your boyfriend squatting down infront of you when you’re sat on the floor of your shared little cabin, cleaning his weapons for him wearing your dirty little white nightgown that you’d scouted on one of your few supply runs. his knees click when they bend and he’s a little tired looking but he smiles big anyway when he brings his backpack to his front, rifling through it until he pulls out a new girly trinket he’d found for you on a trip. you’re unsure as to whether or not he’s talking so gently because he’s exhausted — or because he’s just so sweet on you but he holds your gift up and barely raises his volume to say “hey, got you something. do you like it sweetheart? found it just for you ‘cause you’d been so good this week bubba.”

he often comforts you when you get upset over him returning home with a dead rabbit slung over his shoulders. “okay, oh god — you were not meant to see that.” he deadpans when you catch him in the act — but soon he’s got you scooped up on his lap (with the rabbit cooking outside over a fire) as he rocks you back and forth. “look, we have to eat sweetheart. i swear i didn’t wanna kill that bunny but we don’t have much choice right now. you can close your eyes the whole time. i’m gonna feed it to you. okay?”

of course, some dominance is just far from casual — like when he’d return from a pharmacy run during the week with his pockets stuffed with condoms so he can put your legs over his shoulders and stuff your aching cunt. “i know baby, i know it’s— it’s definitely been a while. haven’t been able to find protection i can trust literally anywhere but i’ve got heaps now, so i can fuck that sweet little pussy the way you want. i know you missed it sweet girl, i know.”

[emoboymeow]

I really love the whole apocalypse/zombie-apocalypse theme, it all seems super aesthetic to me.🌹

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Reunion (Apocalypse!AU) -- Jacob Frye x F!Reader

26/05/2025: Hey! I did it! I've had this unedited for ages now (dw I proofread it lightly) and I just want to post it to share this with you all! Take it as a separate AU standalone than as part of the ongoing story. Also, take this offering as an apology for my unreliability with writing T_T. Shit's been happening but I miss writing! I have a few bits half written that I'm gonna finish as well -- here's hoping it gets me in a groove.

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @rahdaleigh // @sofia-t-g /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @itseivwhore // @pink-polarfox // @missbenzayb // @alleycatbookstore // @timbreavery // @dacian-assassin // @thepalaceofmelanie // @asilverraven // @danzalladaggers // @eclectic--assassin // @thehistorynut19 // @ta-ka-shi-ma // @roki3chocoa // @fandomsfanman // @le-nottibianche // @bandit-brunsmeier // @starmoji1 // @spocktheestallion // @salty-thembo // @missingfrye // @xdeimos // @connorsleftbicep // @timeless-tende // @b3k1720 // @falconfeather23435 // @sciencethot

Enjoy! Reblog, comment, all that good stuff!

----------

Rubbing his eyes, Jacob crossed off another town on his map, leaning over the wooden table in his room. They were kind enough to give him a three bedroom house to reside in, despite having two and a half beds neatly made but untouched. On two of them sat a few different stuffed animals; some new, some familiar. Lily would always share her stuffed animals with Emmett, despite the older brother acting as if he didn’t need the comfort.

He stood up straight and took a sip of his now cold coffee. The mug was sat down amongst a handful of others, showing the true extent of his exhaustion. His return from an overnight supply run with Edward and Arno barely reaped any useful resources, save for some vehicle parts. No sign of anyone camping around. No sign of his family.

A knock at his front door pulled him out of his thoughts. “It’s open!” he called, sniffing to compose himself.

“Jacob?” Evie’s voice rang throughout the hallway, a thread of worry lacing her tone.

“Upstairs!” He chose to quickly knock back the rest of his coffee.

“Jacob, when was the last time you cleaned? Your living room looks like a minefield.”

“I haven’t had the time.”

Evie leaned against the doorway, concern on her features. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

“I’ll rest after we… after…” He sighed. “Later. I’ll rest later.”

The older Frye twin glanced at the table -- at the map decorated with countless crosses, the coffee mugs with their corresponding ring stains. She began to gather them.

“You don’t have to--” Jacob began.

“I was talking to Altair and Kassandra. You’re going on another supply run?” She was quick to cut him off, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“Yeah, this afternoon. And you’re going on an overnight patrol.” Evie raised a brow at his words. “I checked the rota.”

“You’re not going on the run.”

Jacob scoffed. “Says who?”

“Says everyone. You’re wearing yourself out -- killing yourself. And for what?”

“For them, Evie!” He was shockeed at how quickly his temper flared. “Sorry.” His voice calmed immediately, returning to its original, tired state. “This is all my fault.” Carding his fingers through his hair, he sighed. “I should have protected them.”

Evie’s heart stung at her brother’s demeanour. She glanced at the wedding band on Jacob’s finger, a sole reminder of their shared family. “Altair and Kassandra won’t go with you. They can handle being a man down while said man rests.” She put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. “There’s no point in lamenting the past; It wasn’t your fault, Jacob. We’ll get them back. Go to bed.”

“But--”

Evie gave him a look, shutting him up instantly. “Bed. Now.” She followed his gaze towards the front door. “I’ll lock it when I leave.”

Jacob watched her leave his room, leaving his door slightly ajar. Standing up, he almost tripped over his chair. He moved to his bed, where a T shirt and pyjama bottoms sat. He has been working nonstop for days, and only now realised that he barely had time to look after himself. He never changed out of his overnight patrol gear, mud-encrusted and uncomfortable. A shower would be a smart option, and one he forced himself to take.

Evie was still downstairs as Jacob emerged from the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. His movements were less than lacklustre, as if on the verge of giving up.

Perhaps a few hours of rest would do him some good.

He climbed into his bed for the first time in half a week, and listened to the ambient kitchen noises Evie made. Closing his eyes, Jacob tried to imagine someone else making that noise, but the movements were never quite the same. He pulled his pillow tight against him, closing his eyes. A tear still managed to escape, but Jacob had passed out before it had time to hit the pillow.

Altair and Kassandra dove for cover behind a car. “How are there so many raiders?!” She yelled.

“I don’t know! Just keep shooting!”

“Kill all three of them!” The leader of the group — standing at least ten raiders strong — commanded from across the street.

Altair and Kassandra exchanged glances, confused at the instructions. “Who else is here…?” Altair questioned, and was swiftly answered when gunshots rang out in front of them. Altair flinched against the car, ducking further behind the metal as he worked out what was going on. The third person had fled toward an abandoned house, a hand pressed against her stomach. She dove inside and slammed the door shut.

“I suppose we found our answer,” Kassandra said.

“We should kill them all. We cannot let them get to that house.”

“Do you know her?” Kassandra asked, concern beginning to grow for whoever she was.

Altair stood up and fired five shots before ducking again. “No, but she looks… very familiar.”

That seemed to be enough for Kassandra, and she began to eliminate the remaining five targets with a striking accuracy. A few moments later and they were all down.

“We should check if she’s alright. She looked injured,” Altair said, holstering his gun before jogging up to the door and knocking firmly. “Hello?! Are you alright? We want to help you! Are you hurt?”

No response.

He knocked again. “My name is Altair! This is Kassandra! We live in a settlement not too far from here. We have first aid and supplies! We can help you!”

Again, nothing.

“I’m kicking down the door! Please don’t shoot me…” and with that, Altair broke the lock on the door by booting it open. It was clear to see immediately that she had hidden upstairs, shown by the concerning trail of blood she left in her wake.

“Hello?” Altair became nervous; no response after an injury usually didn’t bode well for the injured. They followed the trail, Altair climbing each step purposely but with caution, eyes observing everything from the cracked yellow paint along the wall to the bloodstained bannister.

At the top of the stairs, the trail led into a closed door. He tested the handle; locked. He knocked politely. “Miss? We just want to help you. I’m coming in, alright?”

There were murmurings on the other side of the door, and Altair, without any lockpicks, did the only thing he could think of.

He kicked down the door.

Splinters flew, startled screams sounded out, and his hands automatically came up in surrender as he stood at gunpoint. The woman in question was crumpled against the wall, one hand around her crimson-stained stomach, the other holding a shaking gun. “Don’t move.” Her tone was fierce, strong.

“We can get you help.” He persuaded calmly. “I can help you; I’m a medic.”

“What faction are you with?”

Kassandra mirrored Altair’s movements. “Factions?” She asked. “I don’t... we didn’t know there were any.”

“You don’t dress like cultists… who are you?” The woman squinted in suspicion.

“We’re just survivors. Same as you.” Altair looked around, surprised to see two small figures crouching beside each other in the corner. “You’re protecting your children, we understand, but let us take you to our settlement. We have better medical equipment than here, and it’s safe there.”

“Survivors…” you let your arm with the firearm drop, hitting the wood with a thud. “Why are you out here?”

“We’re searching for supplies.” Altair furrowed his brows in thought. That wasn’t the only reason they were out here. He glanced at the two children; one boy and one girl. “Where’s the father?”

“We got separated about three months back. I don’t know if…” she paused. “If he’s still alive.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jacob.”

“Jacob… Frye?”

Your eyes lit up through the prevalent exhaustion, tears of relief forming. “He’s alive? And Evie?”

Altair rushed to your side, snapped out of his frozen state. “He has not stopped looking for you. It must’ve been fated that the one time we told him to rest was the when we found you.” He cradled the back of your head. “Lie back. Evie’s fine; she’s on an overnight patrol and won’t be back until morning.”

You relaxed slightly, distracted by Kassandra introducing herself to your children. “You both look so much like your parents; I’m your pater’s friend. What are your names?”

“I’m Emmett!” Despite the situation, word about his father’s whereabouts must have excited him. “This is my little sister, Lily.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders behind her in a comforting hug. Lily held onto Emmett’s arms, looking away from Kassandra. “Is it true?!” he cried excitedly. “You know our father?”

Altair took some gauze and medical tape out of his backpack, beginning to pack and dress the wound. You bit your cheek to try and hide the pain from your children. “I can’t do much here without a needle and thread, but we have what we need at the settlement.,” he said, wiping his hands on his shirt. “We need to go, now.” He wrapped your arm over his shoulders and heaved you to your feet. “Kassandra, get them to the horses.” She nodded, and took the children by the hands, leaving the room first. You and Altair stumbling after.

Your knees kept buckling every few steps on the way to the front door, causing Altair to adjust accordingly. “Jacob will not be happy with us when we return with you in this state.”

You chuckled, a weariness to your tone. “I can imagine. That man has a tendency to overreact.”

“We’ll just have to beg for forgiveness this time around.”

As you and Altair limped out of the front door, Kassandra had rushed to bring the horses closer, the children both mounted on one of them already. “Okay, ready?” Altair asked, before hoisting you as best he could onto his horse, mounting behind you. Kassandra held both children in front of her, holding them tightly.

“Will Mama be okay?”

“She’ll be fine, little ones,” Kassandra comforted, though an uneasy smile rested on her face as she assessed the blood staining her friend’s hands.

“Stay as still as you can,” you told them, slumping heavily against Altair’s chest.

He urged his horse to turn back the way they came, kicking her into a gallop — sprinting as fast as she could go. Kassandra wasn’t far behind.

——

Throughout the ride, your pulse had slowed down tremendously. Your bandage (and Altair’s shirt) was almost drenched in blood, and you had been slipping in and out of consciousness for a while. Altair skidded his horse to a stop and slid off, taking you with him. He adjusted you up in his arms and carried you hurriedly into the infirmary. “Help! I need help!” A few doctors came out, and upon seeing the amount of blood, dove into action, taking you out of his arms. He looked down at himself, at the crimson soaking the cotton of his shirt, at the dried blood on his skin. A wave of nausea threatened to overcome him. It was too much.

Gathering himself, he turned to move into the porch of the infirmary building, where Kassandra and the children were waiting, confused and distressed. “I’m getting Jacob,” he told her, sprinting towards the bar. It was the only place the group usually frequented; no doubt the familiarity would be his coping mechanism. The sun had dipped low under the horizon, chilling the air. Altair didn’t feel the cold.

He slammed the door open with his shoulder, slamming it against the wall. The entire room fell into silence, eyes shooting to the scene. Jacob sat on a barstool, a glass of whiskey in front of him. He also snapped his gaze to Altair while pocketing his wallet.

The look on his friend’s face told him everything.

But the blood saturating his shirt told him something far worse, and his blood crystallised to ice. “Oh, Christ.” Jacob flew off of his stool, sprinting behind Altair.

Who was hurt? How bad is it? Are they…?

They ran down the street in what can only be described as the longest ten seconds of his life. Altair let Jacob overtake him as he threw open the porch door to the infirmary.

He fell to his knees when he saw his children again. “Oh…”

There they were, dishevelled and thinner than when he lost them, but alive.

They fell into his arms, and he embraced them tightly, heart swelling and breaking like the tide. “Are you both alright? Are you hurt?” Pulling away, his voice cracked with concern and relief, despite trying to hide it.

“No.” Emmett said, tears in his eyes. He flung his arms around his father’s neck, nestling his face in its crook.

Lily’s tears had already stained her cheeks. “I was so scared,” she whispered, clinging to his other side.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. You’re alright. My gorgeous girl.” He wiped her tears and kissed her forehead, bringing her back into him. “My beautiful boy.” Emmett held him tighter as Jacob cradled the back of his head. He never thought he would savour this moment again — holding his children in his arms. His eyes scanned the room. They were in the infirmary, and two of them were unharmed. That left one more reason behind Altair’s shirt. He sniffed, barely composing himself.

He pulled away after a few more moments. “I need to check on Mum. You two stay out here, alright? Stay with Kassandra and Altair while I go inside. They’re very kind people. I’ll be back in a minute.” He could tell that they didn’t want him to disappear so quickly, but they nodded anyway. Kassandra took them to a small play area in the corner. Altair stood over them all, watching intently.

Jacob moved to knock harshly on the door. “Hey! Open up! I need to see my wife!” The door unlocked quickly, the doctor perhaps intimidated by Jacob’s tone. He barged in, freezing at the sight before him.

You, with your sickened face, barely conscious in a hospital bed. Doctors had just finished treating you, checking your pulse rate as they tidied the area. Two trolleys sat beside them; one of clean bandages and medical equipment, and the other held bloodstained fabric.

So much red. Too much.

Jacob’s stomach dropped, filling with lead. “No…”

Rushing to your bedside, he caressed your head with one hand, and grasped your own with the other. “Y/n, God…” he choked out. His composure crumbled, tears spilling down his cheeks in both worry and relief. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, sosorry.”

Semi-lucid, you turned and feebly squeezed his hand. “I found you.”

He laughed, tears brimming in his eyes. “You did.” The light mood was quickly dissipated by the way you were blinking. Slow, fatigued eyes staring slightly out of focus. “Who did this to you?” Anger bled through his gritted teeth.

“They’re dead, Jacob. Don’t chase headless chickens.”

He sighed. Emotions overwhelmed him, constantly switching between anger, devastation, and relief. He looked up to one of the doctors. “Is she going to be okay?” His thumb caressed your cheekbone.

The doctor kept looking between you and Jacob. “We’ll take care of her.” He walked away quickly, as if fetching something.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He began to sit up, worried, but you tugged on his hand weakly.

“Don’t, Jacob. Let him go.” Frowning, he paused before pulling up a chair to sit beside your bed.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner.” His elbows rested on the mattress, his hands enveloping yours, pressed against his forehead. “I never should have stopped.”

You brushed the tousled hair out of his eyes, smiling at his loving gaze. Concerned and guilty, but loving.

“From what I heard, you were working yourself to death. I’m glad you weren’t there; you would have panicked.”

“But I could have prevented… this.” His lips pressed against your knuckles; a constant kiss.

“You don’t know that. I’ll be fine here… but our children need somewhere to sleep. And bathe.” You studied his features, keeping to yourself concerns about his own health. His eyes looked exhausted, and if it wasn’t for Evie’s presence you would have been certain that he wouldn’t have been eating either.

“I can’t just leave you here.” He breathed a tone of fatigued defiance.

You scoffed. “I’m in the safest place in the world right now.”

“But what if—“

“Stop.” You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles soothingly. “Nothing will happen. It won’t happen.”

He geared himself to leave, but paused at the last moment. Turning to you again, he opened his mouth to say something, but a tearful huff came out instead. “I thought… I thought I’d never see my family again.” He grasped your hand tighter. “I can’t leave you again.”

You wiped a tear from his cheek. “We’re not going anywhere. I promise.” A wall of fatigue overcame you, and you found your eyes fluttering closed.

“Y/n?” You hummed, feeling your husband’s hand on your cheek.

“I’m resting, Jacob. I’m okay.”

He sighed, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”

——

“Hey, have any of you seen Jacob?”

Evie found her way into the bar in the morning, having just returned from her overnight patrol. The entire squad had bagged the biggest booth that morning, conversing in relieved and content murmurs. She eyed them suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

Altair regarded her with the most emotion she’d ever seen him wear. “Go find out. He’s in the infirmary.”

“What?!” She turned on her heel and ran. What did he do this time?

She opened the infirmary door, expecting Jacob to be bandaged up and drugged on morphine (which has happened more often than she would like). “Oh my God.”

Jacob was sat in a chair at your bedside, chuckling quietly at one of Emmett’s stories, his actions and facial expressions entrancing Jacob fully as the boy sat cross legged on the bed. Lily was playing with her father’s hair, tucked safely in his lap. He held her tightly in one arm and held your hand. The children snapped up at the sound of her voice.

“Aunt Evie!”

She dropped to her knees as they bolted towards her. Laughing, she kissed their heads multiple times as they collided into her arms. “Oh my God; you’re here! I missed you both so much!” She couldn’t help tears of joy breaking through. “Don’t cry, Aunt Evie,” Emmett said sadly, wiping her tears.

“They’re tears of joy, darling. I’m so happy you’re safe.”

“They’re tears of pain, really; you naughty rascals are going to drive her up the wall.”

They groaned at their father’s jokes. “No, we drive her down the wall; you’re the one who drives her up it.” Jacob was stunned at Lily’s comeback, while you and Evie laughed. Suddenly, you winced, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

Jacob’s attention was on you in an instant. “You alright? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m okay. I laughed too hard.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Jacob raised a suspicious brow.

“I promise I’m okay.”

Momentarily satisfied, Jacob smiled softly before leaning down to kiss you ever so gently, as if you were made of porcelain. You couldn’t help but smile back; it was impossible to ignore the love in this moment.

Emmett groaned at your and Jacob’s act. “Aunt Evie, get us out of here!”

[goddesspharo]

When the world ends, collect your things. You're coming with me.

[fanlore-wiki]

Fanwork Friday: wonder (BTS story)

Called heartbreaking and a "must read if you want to cry", this week's Fanwork Friday is wonder.

wonder is a BTS fic by wordcouture, focused on the pairing of Jikook. It is an Apocalypse AU taking place at the end of the world. At 7,000 words, the fic may be considered on the shorter side, but it still packs quite the punch. It became popular for fans to post their reactions to reading it online, usually saying it made them cry, and giving others tissue warnings if they wished to read it.

Have you read this story? Come check out the Fanlore page!

----

We value every contribution to our shared fandom history. If you’re new to editing Fanlore or wikis in general, visit our New Visitor Portal to get started or ask us questions here!

[1800titz]

Potential…. apocalypse AU… maybe coming to patreon this week?

The wagging flame dances in the gloam of his eyes. Molten. Flinty with burnt orange— unwavering. Staid, despite his next words.

They’re blunt. Crude. Tit for tat, verbalized with the same indifference of handing cash over a counter—

(Nobody rides coattails, anymore, not in this world. Quid pro quo— a transactional proposition of his offer, days ago.)

“I think it’s about time you suck my cock.”

Her mouthful gets stuck to the back of her throat. Clogs her windpipe, on her gasp, until she’s coughing, twisted, spewing kidney beans onto the loam. Y/N wipes the back of her shuddering hand against her mouth, rheumy-eyed.

(And it’d be a shit denouement, wouldn’t it? Quietus, at the edge of a rotting world, choking on her food.)

His eyes list. The fork scrapes the bottom of the can— a portentous, hollowed click of metal on metal. “…Don’t you think?”

Her face spumes with heat, the back of her throat still raw, closing (on the words that bubble there, tangled).

Until, finally— “Sorry?”

“…Quid pro quo. I—“

Detached negotiation— a trade in the esse of …whatever she can offer, sloppy and slick. And that’s the pinnacle of mutualism, today, isn’t it? When mankind disintegrates and reverts, the raw remnants are what they are at the core; ironclad— animals.

“Feed you. Keep you warm. Give you a place to rest your head for the night. And you…”

There’s stardust in the glint of his teeth. Bared in the proxy of something friendly, when really, maybe, they just ache to snap and consume. The constellation of her purpose, unfulfilled, in the film over his heady eyes. Jet polynyas, blown. Mirrors for the fire when his voice croons in a honeyed char, treacle over embers—

And, that’s the thing, isn’t it? What her cosmos dealt to her— him, in the ashy nebula of existence.

“You give me the view of a pretty girl between my legs. A wet mouth on my cock.”

[whenisthefall]

Introducing Crow!reader x Rafe Cameron

I’d like to think that Rafe found a richie bunker fairly quickly in the apocalypse. Or maybe his dad thought if El Dorado was real this could be too.

It’s packed full of food and pillows, with running water and dvds. Crow tried to make it as friendly as possible with small decorations here and there.

they don’t have to go out often but when they do it’s a hike, finding all they can shove into a backpack and Crow is always looking to bring back something shiny. Whether that be actual glitter or a sparkly sketchbook she never goes home empty handed.

it’s quite boring in the bunker, Rafe tried to find ways to make it better bringing home new dresses and putting them on a rack so crow could pretend to shop like the old times.

Speaking of boring they both have a lot of time on there hands, so it’s to no surprise that the gun doesn’t only get used for shooting zombies.

[olath124]

Even in a place as dangerous as Apocalypse World, battlebabes are, well. They’re the ones you should walk away from, eyes down, but you can’t. They’re the ones like the seductive blue crackling light, y’know? You mistake looking at them for falling in love, and you get too close and it’s a zillion volts and your wings burn off like paper. Dangerous.

Yay! Started a new campaign of Apocalypse World... And what better occasion than that to annoy Mr. Not Hansen and my friends with Violet!

It's been a while since the last live rpg night and damn, if I missed it!

Probably also the first time in ever that I've done a character than doesn't mess around with others with words, but physically fight...

I'm curious to see for how long she'll survive.

[arcane-vagabond]

I did a thing last night and made four different moodboards for Hatch

Bonus Tyler moodboard

Read We Abide.

[kokinu09]

running 'til the end (pt 3)

word count : 2194

A/N : I am also creating a separate tag list from the 'Let Go of the Reins’ one. For any fics I post other than my smau. If you would like to be added to see some of my other works as I post them, feel free to let me know!

trigger warnings: dehydration, self doubt, violence (bows & guns), blood & guts (mentioned very briefly)

first | second | masterlist

~~*~~

The walk to the stacks of water containers is short, a small hill to climb and some light foliage to cross through to get there. They all follow Felix dutifully, Minho purposefully falling behind to keep all of them in his sights.

As soon as they break through into the cleared spot they’d unloaded at, the other group’s eyes light up at the sheer amount they’ll get to take back home. Han immediately grabs a whole jug to gulp down as much as he can in one go.

He brings the canister away from his face with a big, happy sigh. “Ah, how I’ve missed the simple things in life,” he says.

Minho actually chuckles at that, Felix sees the way he almost looks fond with how he smiles at the cheeky boy. He’s not completely sure what is going on with the eldest of their group, but maybe he didn’t have to worry as much as he had thought?

The mixed messages are driving him crazy though.

He makes a mental note to question him about it later. What if he has more leverage now? What if he can convince him to let them into the compound?! And they can actually be, friends.

Felix feels his chest lighten with the prospect. Meeting all of them and seeing their dynamics has been the most fun he’d had in weeks! Excitement bubbles up at the thought of getting to know them and joining in on their shenanigans.

Chan catches his eye, he gives the younger a warm smile. “Thank you for giving us a shot. We would be a goner if it weren’t for you.”

Felix opens his mouth to deny the implication. His words die on his tongue when a cluster of groans sound around them, far too close for comfort.

All of them go silent, staring at one another with wide eyes. Felix’s group doesn’t waste any time as they quietly pull out their bows, arrows slotted and ready to fire as soon as one of those filthy, undead monsters shows its ugly face.

Minho swiftly grabs Han from behind Chan and tugs him closer. “Stay behind me and keep close.” He whispers. Han looks like all of the blood has drained from his face, pure panic written all over his features. He nods stiffly, reaching his hands forward to grip the fabric of the older’s shirt so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Felix witnessed the whole interaction, a shocked expression plastering on his face. Seeing, for the first time ever, his leery brother letting a stranger be at his back. Let alone cling to it.

Suddenly, the hoard came into view completely interrupting his thoughts. It will have to wait till later. Seungmin curses under his breath, lifting his bow and piercing one through an empty eye socket.

The resounding squelch seems to alert the closest monsters, their groans and growls reverberating straight into Felix’s core. A wave of adrenaline washing over all of them equally.

Chan and Changbin look at each other with a nod, one grabbing a pistol out of the back of his jeans while the other bent to pull one out of his boot. “You came armed?” Felix questions in surprise.

“If the world wasn’t so dangerous, I swear we wouldn’t have,” he answers regretfully.

“Well I, for one, am glad you did,” Jeongin pipes in through gritted teeth before he releases the taut string.

“We need to move. Do you know how to use those things?” Minho asks.

“Of course. We can hold our own. But it’s only the two of us, and these things can’t ward off a whole herd of those freaks,” Changbin rambles hastily.

“It’s fine. Felix, you can keep yourself and the tall one safe, right?” Minho says, knowing full well how good Felix is with his bow. “You two,” he directs at the gun wielding boys, “have our maknae’s backs. Keep them safe, we’ll keep yours safe. Deal?” His words are quick and sharp, leaving very little room for argument.

Not that there’s much to argue anyways.

“Deal.” Chan agrees, shuffling to come back to back with Jeongin. “I’ve got you, I.N.”

Seungmin eyes Changbin wearily once again. “Try to keep up.”

That made the buff boy chuckle. “I’m not slow, String Bean.” The teasing nickname makes Seungmin’s jaw drop.

“Focus,” Minho snaps. “If we all want to make it out of this alive, you’ll stop joking around.”

The younger nods, tilting his neck to stretch it before readying an arrow and killing another zombie. “Nice shot,” Changbin compliments, earning a smirk from the other.

Felix motions Hyunjin over. “Stick close and everything will be fine.” The taller boy nods. He can tell his face is paler than before like Han’s.

For a brief moment, he wonders how he’d react to being unarmed in a situation like this. He’s sure he’d be pretty terrified too. But he must have some serious trust in his friends. His brothers.

A new kind of determination ignites itself in his belly. To not only keep himself safe, but to prove they can trust him too.

The hoard seems to have heard their whispers and scuffling, the sounds of the creatures growing closer by the second. Felix takes out the next one as soon as it comes into view. “Lino, where are we heading? We need to go, now.”

“Home,” Minho says simply, then turns to the other group with a pointed look. “Don’t make me regret it. Or I’ll make sure you do.” The low threat in his voice would make anyone with ill intention second guess their choices. But none of the others give any sign that they would need to fear his words.

“What about the water?! We can’t leave it here!” Han whispers in even more of a panic, his fingers gripping impossibly tighter to Minho’s shirt.

The cold glare on Minho’s face thaws at his words. “There’s plenty more at our compound. Don’t worry,” he cooed. Then he becomes serious again. “Let’s get moving. Stay quiet as much as you can. Don’t use those things unless you have to.” He warns, not waiting for a response before nodding in the direction for everyone to follow.

~~*~~

It was a much longer trek than usual, having to stop several times to clear out a number of monsters that had wandered too close. Not to mention the close call when Chan had to save Jeongin from a crawler.

“Home stretch. Keep your eyes up and feet moving,” Minho tells them all quietly.

They move as silently through the brush as possible, heads on a swivel to watch for threats. Out of nowhere, Jeongin lets out a shriek. The entire group turning to him. Watching him frantically try to tug his leg away from a crawler that had grabbed onto him. All he could do was keep his ankle away from its jaws.

Pop!

The loud fire of Chan’s gun makes everyone jump. But his free hand is quick to steady the younger. Jeongin looks down to see the splattered brains of the monster discoloring the grass.

“You good?” Chan asks.

He tries to calm his raged breathing. “Peachy.”

Chan chuckles, giving his shoulder a pat and pulling him to rejoin the group. But the discharged weapon had gained a lot of unwanted attention that they hadn’t accounted for. They can hear the excited moans of the nearby hoards now coming closer.

“New plan. We’re running ‘til the end. Don’t trip,” Minho decides, locking one hand with Jisung’s. “Are you ready?”

Jisung lifts his wide eyes to meet his, his hand that was grabbed is shaking and slightly sweaty. But he’s too scared to acknowledge it. Just wordlessly nods his agreement as he nervously shifts from foot-to-foot.

“Good. Let’s go!” He calls. The whole group taking off into a sprint.

It’s rough to navigate. Not their normal path home. Lots of raised roots and uneven ground. Felix nearly twists his ankle a time or two.

Seungmin does a good job of keeping the chasers off their tail. Firing off arrows on the move isn’t always easy but he looks like a pro doing it now.

At last, their sanctuary comes into view. Their feet seem lighter, carrying them even swifter as they run home. As soon as they’re past the gates and the door closes behind them, it’s like a wave of relief washes over them. Half of them collapse to the ground as their limbs give out, the other half just greedily suck in as much oxygen into their lungs as possible.

As Minho double checks the security of the gate, Jisung manages to catch his breath enough to stand again. He hovers around Minho, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his own sleeve.

“Thank you,” he tells him in a whisper. Minho pauses to look at him properly. “For protecting me,” the word leaves his lips but he immediately tries to take it back. “Us! I meant us!”

Minho chuckles in amusement, lifting his hand to ruffle shaggy hair. “Don’t mention it,” he teases. Leaving Jisung surprised with his mouth agape as he walks past to check on the others.

He crouches down next to Jeongin to assess for injuries, specifically his leg to be sure there was no bite. Clearly he is relieved when he finds none.

Chan approaches from nearby. As soon as he comes into the corner of Minho’s vision, he stands to see what he needs. The older boy doesn’t come to him to ask for something like he’d expected.

Instead, he offers Minho a bow.

“Thank you for allowing us to seek shelter from the monsters here for the time being. As soon as things die down, we’ll head back to the clearing to get the water you’ve gifted to us and be out of your hair,” he said with a grateful smile. Not a hint of sarcasm or bitterness in his tone. The other boys hear him and they all make their way closer. The group of outsiders all follow their leader’s example and bow to them as a whole. A gesture of thanks and solidarity.

Felix looks amongst his brothers, a mix of surprise and awe written on their faces. And when Minho looks back at him, he silently pleads with him. Shockingly, it doesn’t take much convincing.

“Or,” the eldest brother starts, “you all could see how you like it here. We could use a few extra pairs of hands around the place.”

All four of them jolt upright. Eyes wide and hopeful once again.

“Really?! You mean it?!” Han exclaims, making Minho chuckle.

“You’ll come to realize I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”

Felix excitedly rushes up to them, stopping for only a second in front of the two before surging forward and wrapping Minho in a hug. Tears prick at his eyes, this isn’t a dream. The older gives him a reassuring squeeze that everything is fine.

Even without looking at him in the eye, Minho can read him like a book.

Then, when he finally pulls back, he turns to enveloping Han in just as big of a hug as well. The other shaking off his hesitation as his arms wrap around his back tightly. Neither of them make a move to let go for a very long moment. Until they can feel everyone migrate to surround them. Felix pulls back first, hands still resting on his shoulders as he beams at him.

“Now we really can be friends!”

Han’s eyes widen a fraction as his words sink in. Tear threaten the corners of his eyes as a smile slowly spreads across his face. “I’d like that, Felix.”

And his bright smile is contagious to the whole group. Felix’s eyes find Hyunjin’s as he look at each of them in joy. The taller boy offers a soft smile, eyes shining with gratitude. He bows his head slightly as a sign of respect and appreciation. Felix returns the gesture, then turns back to Han who also seems preoccupied by someone else. The elder of his group.

He mentally scolds himself from the thought. It was no longer them and us. They are one group now.

“We should head inside and get you guys something to drink,” he suggests. Minho nods from beside him.

“You’re right. They won’t be of any use to us if they die of dehydration,” he jokes dryly, not giving away if he could possibly be serious or not. And it has the effect he wanted. Squawks of indignation sounding from the four of them while Felix and the younger two cackle.

All is calm within them as they all playfully make jabs at one another when they finally make their way inside the compound. Even if the world continues to fall apart, this, the family they’re building, will never die. The light in their hearts will burn together.

The arrow of their broken compass can lead their way. A path they will make on their own.

It’s clear that this is just the beginning of what will one day be an unstoppable force of nature. Their group of stray kids.

~~*~~

taglist : @kangaracha @rainfallingfromthesky @keepswingin

[mydarlingclaudia]

wasteland, baby!

apocalypse!Simon au masterlist

pt 1.

meeting + keeping close

pt 2. -> in the works!!

[princessbrunette]

OUTERBANKS: THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU — THE LORE ♡

₊˚⊹ ᰔ

CW: depressing tones, violence, death, blood, gore.

AN: okay, so i don’t really know what this is — but i wanted to open this up as an au i could write drabbles for with reader x character and i decided to write some extensive lore behind the universe i’m creating. i’ve always loved zombie media so i wanted to combine my fav things n create this little au for you guys. this isn’t really a fic but more so an opener to inspire drabble requests n ideas in my inbox, kind of like an experimentation. okay, hope you enjoy !! ౨ৎ

“We got gate one locked down, I repeat Pope— we got gate one locked down. Proceed with opening gate two. Over.”

“Got it, thanks JJ. Over.”

The squealing of mechanics shakes the dusty ground as the old gates begin to slowly slide, squealing as they open up revealing the long forest road up ahead. John B readies himself for a simple supply stake out, headed out alone to check out an old warehouse one of the runners had scoped out a week prior. As he exits the gates, he looks right and then looks left — stepping on the squishy skull of a previously dealt with Infected, its body lulling out from the old rickety grafitti’d sign reading Kitty Hawk.

The world went to shit back in 2020. Some sort of pandemic that had people biting others, their brains overpowered by aggression and hunger for flesh. One day everyone was cleaning up the beaches after Storm Agatha, the next day people were tearing into flesh right infront of your very eyes. At first, the people of the Outerbanks had moved out onto their boats, living out on the water with the occasional supply run. It worked for a while, the infected couldn’t swim so as long as your boat was afloat — you were safe from their bloody unforgiving jaws. However, supplies started to run out pretty fast, and people began to turn on eachother. Hopping boats and pirating until no one was left standing and the water was tainted with blood— the infected gathered on the shore to feast on the bodies slowly being washed up by the tide.

The pogues had found you by week six, your body curled on the pier by the Chateau crying into your hands having lost everyone you’d ever known. You were sure to soon perish— no supplies, no weapons, no food. Life had become bleak, hopeless — until for the first time in your life you’d felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of your head.

“Who are you and why are you out here?” Kiara barks, a khaki green bandana tied to cover her nose and mouth.

“I’m— i’m just looking for shelter. I don’t have any weapons on me I swear I’m safe, please just —”

“Are you bit?”

“No!”

“Turn around.”

When you slowly turn, you’re met with two female faces, one more familiar than the other. Besides Kiara stands Sarah Cameron— a girl you went to school with. She looks more unsure than Carerra, hand resting on the pocket knife wedging out of the waistband to her denim shorts.

“I don’t think she’s bit Kie… hey, I think I know this girl.”

It was Sarah who had convinced Kiara to bring you back to the Chateau and let you stay. It was also Sarah who got you accustomed, explaining the role everyone played. She was a negotiator, her social ranking in the old world aiding her in communicating with people outside of the barricades they’d made. Kie was in charge of supplies, stock take and recruiting. She decided who was in and who was out. Pope was the brains, did all the mathematical equations to help the group understand their circumstances and chances of survival better. JJ, a fighter — most skilled in dealing with firearms and building bombs, which came in pretty handy when clearing out what was left of Kitty Hawk. John B was their leader, he often came up with the main strategies and stuck his neck out on the line.

Everyone was their own cog in the well oiled machine they’d built to aid them in surviving an apocalypse. It was uncertain what you could bring to the group until you’d mentioned that you’d been studying to be a nurse.

“S’good thing you come in useful ‘cus I was totally gonna suggest we use you as bait. Y’know, cos of the whole doe eyed damsel in distress thing you got goin’ on.” JJ jests with a smirk, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you to make sure you knew he was only kidding around.

You became a lot more useful for patching people up once you’d cleared out Kitty Hawk. The pogues and yourself had began to collect a larger group of survivors, creating a small town to live in what once was the behavioural-correctional camp. You’d collected gardeners, seamstresses, doctors — people of all ages looking for shelter and safety to live in the many dormitories the land had to offer. You had the evening shifts, patching up any runners that had return from their time outside of the gates with injuries.

You remember the day Sarah got bit so clearly.

The Twinkie had come barrelling through the gates so fast, the townspeople that protected the entrances barely getting them open in time before the vehicle was speeding in— Kiara and John B ushering the blonde out the doors yelling out for you urgently with devastation in their voices, begging you to amputate the arm she’d been bitten on.

The pogues had gone for what was promised to be a civil meeting with Ward and Rafe Cameron. The two had taken over what was left of Kildare, creating a strong colony in a gated community that Ward had just come into possession of right before the outbreak. They were feared, respected — and they wanted Sarah to return to them.

Of course, the meeting was a set up— and when Sarah had refused to go with them — they opened fire, attracting rogue infected to swarm in on the group. In the chaos, Sarah was bitten — and JJ in a fit of rage had shot Ward Cameron straight through the skull infront of his only son. This started an all out war.

You recall arriving to Sarah, and your heart sinking. It was definitely too late, her eyes blood shot and skin uncharacteristically pale. She was whispering “Its okay.” Over and over. You wasn’t sure if she was convincing you or herself.

Kiara took her out to the forest to put her out of her misery before she got the chance to turn into one of the brainless monsters that had existed outside the gates. She was stronger than you could ever be, holding back her tears as she aims the barrel to the blondes head. You weren’t there, but you heard the gunshot as you were patching up JJ who was skimmed by a bullet. You slept by his side that night without uttering a word about it.

Everyone got a little more serious from that point on. You often stared at the heart with her initials she’d carved into her old bunkbed that now sits empty in her dorm, her things laid out like she was still coming back to collect them one day. John B got a little more stern as a leader, over protective of you as he made it clear he didn’t believe you’d be able to protect yourself out there — banning you from leaving the gates. JJ became a more ferocious fighter, busying himself with target practice out in the forest shooting bullseyes each day to ensure he could quickly take down whoever he needed to. Pope got more reserved, more moody — hanging out by himself infront of maps or in the radio room with Kie trying to find new survivors. Occasionally, just occasionally — the bunch of you would get together and drink round a camp fire. Things would feel normal again, just for one night — the group laughing and telling stories the same way they might have done before the outbreak.

You wondered how long this could last, if there was ever an end to any of this. You also wondered if there was a reason to it all happening, if you were being punished for the way you’d behaved as human beings. Mostly though, on a day to day basis— you wondered when Rafe Cameron would return for his revenge. It was only a matter of time.

[emoboymeow]

Apocalypse!AU

a little addition. In my AU, Riddle sews a pocket for each of his students, and here he sews pockets on Ace and Deuce's outerwear 🌹

[atlaschao]

Your lips My lips, Apocalypse

Prologue/Chapter 0

(for people who saw my content before, i am restarting)

Birds tweet, flying to their chicks to feed them, unaware of the events around them.

Buildings stand with greenery pouring from them like tears, rust crawling at their bones as they slowly deteriorate.

It had been 53 years since the outbreak.

People seek refuge within groups, they outnumber infected. But not all groups were friendly to another. Killing anyone on site that they don’t know. Making them just as feared as infected. Some were caring, known to take in people of need or solo people who had lost their team, to help them on a right path, to join a safe group.

The air always felt thick. Heavy. Full of grief and caution.

It was near to silence, people whispered and croaks and whimpers from infected were all you could hear. It became the norm. Birds chirp, as if warning you, keeping you on your toes as you tread lightly, praying to whoever would answer your prayers.

But the real struggle?

How do you deal with it. When you have to leave a loved one.

Something nobody had gotten used to yet.

…

I yawned, stretching and groaning as my back popped into place. Rolling onto my front and sighing, my eyes adjusting to the light as they slowly opened, “Wake up lazy” I heard a teasing tone behind me, I looked over and spat back “Oh shut up- I couldn’t sleep bro.” I sat up, shuffling out of my sleeping bag and looking over at the laughing man of my best friend. “Shut the fuck up epic.” I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the mess of what had become my hair. “Cmon you lazy old man.” He spoke with a teasing tone “Just cause my hair is white doesn’t mean im old!” …did I mention I get grumpy when I get a bad nights of sleep?

I mean who doesn’t get grumpy?

"Cmon get your stuff packed up, Gaster wants us out in ten" He spoke as he began to pack away his own sleeping bag, I just rolled my eyes, dragging myself out of bed and brushing my hair "whats the plan today bro? Gaster tell you?" I asked with interest, glancing over at epic as he shrugged "don't really care dude, as long as we don't end up dead" he spoke with a small joking tone at the end, I just sighed and rolled my eyes.

Walking out of the tent, watching our.. friends pack up their tents, me and epic began to work on our own. Birds chirped as the sun was high now. Indicating around 9-10am... Or atleast what I guessed.

I felt a small poke in my back, I turned around to look behind me, I looked down at the small 13 year old and gave them a small smile "Hey kid" I bent down to Frisk's height, giving them a pat on their head, but they just.. hugged me? Frisk was selective mute, they struggled with anxiety, even to me, I barely heard their voice, I hugged them back and patted their back, giving them silent comfort, they mumbled a soft and quiet "I love you" into my shoulder "...I love you too frisk. Always.." I pulled back and smiled softly at my younger brother, I ruffled their hair and watched as they fixed it, I stood back up to my full length, looking over to see how the rest of our group was doing, watching them talk and point at some map undyne had.

"I just know this is gonna be a long day." I mumbled over my breath as I walked towards them.

And that was the last trip I had with them.

It's been years.

Ten to be exact.

A whole decade.

I heard humming as my eyes adjusted to the light compared to the darkness I had trapped myself in that people called sleeping. My only relief.

Groaning as I say up, rubbing the back of my neck, feeling small scars on it from all these years.

I climbed out of my tent, putting my jacket on as I sat next to epic "what you making?" I asked curiously as he smiled and said "I hunted down a rabbit, just cooking it now plus I traded some coffee beans so I'm making coffee" I raised an eyebrow and mumbled "since when did you get so good at.. supplies?.. no offence bro"

Epic laughed and said "told you dude! One day I'd get good at this!" I rolled my eyes and added "I'm gonna pack all this up and figure out where we are gonna head next" I patted his back as I stood up and began to take down our tent.

Yknow I never used to like rabbit.

I hated it's texture. But I grew used to it.

"Here. we haven't explored this area yet, what do you think?"

I heard epic sigh, I just down at him, we were almost the same height, me being slightly taller than him. I sighed too and mumbled "I know. It's one of the last ones I promise.. then I'll give up okay?.." epic didn't like that we were still going after XGaster and our family, epic just nodded, I watched him get up and pack, I followed by standing up and folding up the map. "One of the last ones. Then we are done. Okay?" Epic spoke in a more serious tone than ever, I just nodded "yeah. I promise.. it's been years.. it's not worth running after them anymore.. I just.. I guess I want closure okay?" I took a step forward as I spoke, watching him sigh and nod. I just smiled softly and patted his back "now cmon, I wanna get there before sunset" And then we set off.

[1down-faithissmol]